


Reprise

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [42]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Anonymity, Community: kink_bingo, Established Relationship, M/M, Prostitution, Roleplay, Safewords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phill roleplay a situation from a past mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reprise

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Anonymity

At a quarter-to-seven that evening, Clint was sitting at a hotel bar, nursing a beer, and carefully not glancing over at the door every 30 seconds. Instead he turned the beer bottle around slowly on its coaster, trying to pretend that it wasn't a sign of nerves in someone who was known for being able to sit stock-still for hours at a time.

Clint was wearing an aluminum grey silk button-down shirt with black trousers and a jacket. He stopped himself from shrugging his shoulders in the jacket yet again. No matter what size jacket he wore, and who had tailored it, it always felt too tight across his shoulders. Phil insisted that it was psychosomatic. The shirt's top two buttons were undone, revealing a gold chain and hinting at the tanned expanse of broad chest, and there was a diamond stud in one ear. Clint had 'borrowed' the jewelry from the SHIELD wardrobe department.

A man walked in and Clint glanced up, then quickly looked back down at his beer and took a steadying breath before fixing his eyes on the mirror behind the bar. He watched as the middle-aged, slightly balding man in a dark business suit put his laptop bag down and slid onto the barstool next to him.

Clint waited until the man had ordered his drink, a scotch on the rocks, and taken his first, large sip. Then he made eye-contact through the mirror. After a moment, the man nodded, slightly. Clint turned with a friendly smile on his face, and said

"Hey sailor, come here often?"

"Not really. You?" 

"Only when I want to meet someone."

"And are you looking to meet someone now?"

Clint took a pull on his beer, and checked that the bartender was out of range before dropping his voice and saying huskily, "I could be, if someone was interested. $100 an hour, $500 for the night."

Phil slid his hand back to his hip pocket, took out his wallet, and extracted a wad of bills. He glanced to make sure the bartender was still occupied at the other end of the bar before putting them in front of Clint.

Clint palmed the money with the grace of an experienced stage magician, then smiled,

"My name is Keith, it's very nice to meet you."

"Hi Keith, I'm Frank."

"Do you have a room at this hotel, Frank?"

"Yes. A suite, actually."

"Well then, why don't we head up there?"

They didn't talk in the elevator, and Phil had to stop himself from changing the laptop bag from one hand to the other to cover the fact that he wanted to fidget. The elevator door slid open and they both stepped out. 'Frank' took a step to the left and said "This way," rather than using Phil Coulson's usual 'Follow me' jerk of the head.

Phil let them into the room and put his bag down at the foot of the bed, then turned to face 'Keith,' who was standing in the middle of the room, at ease, waiting.

"Strip," Phil said.

"Getting right down to business, are we?" said Clint with a smirk, "Fine with me." He took a strip of condoms and a small bottle of lube out of his pants pocket and tossed them onto the bed, then he stepped out of his shoes, and kicked them to the side. 

Phil checked himself, and so didn't throw Clint a mildly disapproving look for that, before mentally shaking himself back into character.

Clint was unbuttoning his shirt. Not slow, but not quick. Not doing a strip-tease or putting on a show, but... deliberately. He was looking straight at 'Frank' with a smirk, because he couldn't quite manage an easy, relaxed grin.

Clint peeled off his shirt and dropped it on a chair, and then unfastened his pants and slipped them off. He even looked reasonably graceful balancing briefly on each foot to take off his socks, and that was all Clint, not 'Keith'. The tiny, tight black briefs were last, and Clint dropped them onto the pile of clothes on the chair.

Clint bit back, "What's next, boss?" Too close to home. Instead he waited, letting Phil, no 'Frank' look at him. The gaze was appraising, appreciative, and slightly predatory. Clint usually liked it when Phil looked at him that way, but now... now it wasn't quite as much fun.

It became slightly uncomfortable when Phil walked around him once, just looking. Phil stopped in front of him, stripped off his tie, unbuttoned his collar button, and then looked 'Keith' in the eye and said, "Undress me."

Clint swallowed the tension that he was feeling, now pretty certain that some of it was coming from Phil. Clint had agreed easily when Phil had proposed they do this, that they re-play something that had happened almost two years ago, at the end of a mission, before they got together. Except with a different ending... Back then, Clint, while working undercover as a male escort, had jokingly propositioned his handler at the hotel bar, and Phil had walked away. 

Clint thought it sounded like fun, him pretending to be a rent-boy, and Phil pretending to be a business man, and them pretending not to know each other. What was currently happening in the hotel suite was not the light-hearted fun that Clint had anticipated. He was pretty sure that something was going on in Phil's head, but he had no idea what it might be. But Clint trusted Phil to know what he wanted, to know what he was doing, so he followed 'Frank's' instructions.

Clint slid Phil's jacket off his shoulders with practiced ease, folded it neatly, and put it on a chair. He unbuttoned the shirt down to his belt, then undid the belt and pants, leaving them hanging open while he took Phil's shirt off. He slid the pants and underwear down together, and knelt to urge Phil to step out of them, at the same time slipping off Phil's socks. Clint stopped, and looked up with a cocky grin.

"Anything else you'd like me to do while I'm down here?"

Phil reached over and snagged a condom and the bottle of lube off the bed. 

"Suck me. And while you're doing that, do whatever you need to do to be ready for me to fuck you." 

Hearing those words in Phil's slightly husky voice sent a thrill through Clint, feeding right into one of Clint's old fantasies about being on his knees in Phil's office, sucking off his boss. And when Clint looked up to take the condom and bottle of lube from Phil, he saw not 'travel-worn businessman Frank,' but cold and cool Agent Phillip J. Coulson. The robo-Coulson that idiotic junior agents joked about and incompetent FBI-drones complained about. 

The coldness in Phil's eyes startled him. For a moment, Clint nearly balked. 'Yellow,' he thought, 'If I need to, I can say Yellow, and Phil will ease up.' Knowing he had the 'Yellow' signal and his safeword reassured Clint, and he put on 'Keith's' mask, smiling flirtatiously up though his lashes while he opened the condom packet and rolled it onto Phil's cock. He took it in his mouth, but the condom blocked the familiar taste, so he grounded himself in Phil's smell while he popped open the lube.

Phil looked down at Clint, kneeling in front of him, sucking his cock and fingering himself open. He'd retreated into himself to avoid letting the conflict that was raging show. On the one hand, this was exactly what he had wanted, 'Keith' like this, servicing him, about to be used. On the other, he hated himself for wanting it this way. But, he reminded himself, it wasn't real. It was Clint, and it was a game, and all he had to do to stop it was say his safeword. He was safe. He had a net. It was OK.

As usual, Clint was doing a masterful job at giving head and, despite his emotional turmoil, Phil was getting more and more turned on by the attention that was being lavished on not only his cock, but also his sensitive balls as Clint was rolled them gently in his free hand. Phil gave himself a minute to watch as Clint pumped three fingers in and out of his own ass, then reached down and put an hand on 'Keith's' elbow.

"Get up. On the bed. On your knees."

Clint obeyed, and Phil climbed up onto the bed behind him, one of his thighs nudging Clint's legs a little further apart, his palm flat between Clint's shoulder blades, urging him forward onto his hands-and-knees. The hand (Phil's hand) slid slowly down his spine. It was the first time 'Frank' had touched him since they entered the hotel room.

Then Clint felt Phil's cock nudging his hole, and Phil's strong hands and soft fingers on his hips. They didn't fuck in this position often, but the familiarity of Phil's hands and cock reassured Clint. Not being able to see the mask of Phil's face helped as well. 

Clint relaxed, he trusted Phil and whatever this was, whatever Phil needed from this, Clint was going to give it to him. He heard the familiar little breathless sigh as Phil pushed into him, and the quiet, "Yeah," from his own lips before Phil started to move, settling quickly into a strong rhythm.

Clint let his head drop between his arms and tried to let himself enjoy it. Normally Phil would be varying the pace, slowing down, draping himself along Clint's back, kissing the back of his neck, stroking his chest, playing with his nipples, stroking his cock, but 'Frank' just fucked him, steadily and purposefully.

But still, they knew each other's bodies well enough, each other's likes and needs, that some of their usual synchronicity leaked though, Phil adjusted his angle minutely until he was grazing Clint's prostate with each thrust, and Clint matched up to Phil's rhythm and rocked back to meet him. Clint could hear Phil's harsh breathing grow more ragged, his rhythm faster and his thrusts more powerful. One hand on his hip tightened, and the other let go, reaching for Clint's dick and stroking it lightly, just the way Clint liked.

Just the way Clint liked.

Phil came silently, and a few seconds later Clint groaned. The hand on his dick disappeared, and a moment later the one on his hip was being used to help Phil withdraw gently. Clint blew out his breath and turned to look at Phil, who had his back turned and was already heading for the bathroom. 

'What the?' Clint cleaned himself up with a couple of tissues and debated putting his clothes back on, except that he was still, theoretically at least, 'in character' and 'Frank' had paid $500 for the whole night, but Clint wasn't sure he knew what the hell was going on any more. Lacking any better plan he stretched out on the still-made bed with a couple of pillows under his head, and stared up at the ceiling.

A minute later, Phil emerged from the bathroom. Clint turned to look at him and his guts twisted at the desperately unhappy look on Phil's face. Clint sat up on the bed and said,

"Yellow. Phil, what the - "

But he didn't get a chance to continue because Phil was saying "Red," and "Vibranium," and "I'm sorry," and climbing onto the bed and into Clint's arms, holding him tight.

"It's OK, it's OK Phil, whatever it is, it's OK."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, Phil. It's going to be fine." Clint maneuvered them under the blankets and cradled Phil on his chest, holding him close and stroking his hair.

"Tell me as much or as little as you want to tell me, OK? I love you."

"I love you too," Phil said quietly, and for long minutes he just held on tight, and tried to find the words to explain.

"I never did it. I need you to know that. But I wanted to. I... I used to fantasize about doing this for real. Hiring someone, I mean."

Clint didn't say anything, he just squeezed his arms around Phil a little tighter, and waited.

"It wasn't that I couldn't get a date, get laid when I wanted to. And it's not that I have any kind of prostitute kink. I just... I had this fantasy about it being easy, for once. Simple. No going out to the bars and jumping through all the right hoops to meet someone, having to trot out the tired old lies about what I did for a living, exchanging phone numbers, and arranging to meet for coffee, getting to know them. I always all of that, because... I'm... I'm a nice guy. I've always been a nice guy."

"Tell that to the junior agents who are scared shitless of you."

"That's the thing. That's work. Where I'm in charge, and I get to order people around and make sure things get done to my satisfaction. But outside work... I've never been like that. I wanted to, though, so I used to fantasize about hiring someone, so that they'd do what I said, so that I could just... take what I wanted for once." 

"And they we had that mission where you were playing a rent-boy. And I was watching you seduce the mark, and I was insanely jealous. I wanted you so much. But I also wanted him - the prostitute you were playing. Then you came back down to the hotel bar, and you started flirting with me."

"Sorry," said Clint.

"No, you don't have anything to apologize for, I'm glad you did, because it finally made me actually do something instead of just waiting... But you started flirting with me, and you made it so easy. All I had to do was say one word, and we would have gone up to a suite just like this one, and fucked like bunnies that night. But I couldn't do it."

"I'm glad."

"What?"

"I'm glad you didn't. I'm glad you said what you did instead. You let me know you were serious, and you wanted me to be serious too. I... It made me feel like you respected me, like I was worth something to you. Worth something serious."

"You were. You are." Phil was quiet for a minute. "I spent the next couple of weeks kicking myself for being an idiot, and a coward, and a prude, and an old-fashioned romantic, why couldn't I just..."

"Have a meaningless fuck with someone you had worked with for 4 years? Who liked and trusted and respected you? Who wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with him?"

"Yes, but I didn't know that part at the time."

"Again, Phil, I'm glad you didn't."

"Me too." Phil was quiet again.

"I wasn't being honest with myself when I suggested we do this, so I couldn't be honest with you. I should have stopped it the minute I realized what was happening. I'm very, very sorry Clint."

"What was happening, in your head I mean?"

"I was trying to pretend that it was OK for 'Frank' to fuck 'Keith' the way I'd always wanted to fuck the rent-boys I fantasized about. I was trying to pretend that it was OK, because it was just a game that we were playing. I was trying to pretend it didn't make me feel dirty, didn't make me feel abusive."

Clint shifted so that he could turn and see Phil's face. He raised and hand and stroked his cheek, then kissed him gently. 

"You didn't do anything that made me feel bad. I was just a little confused, that's all." Clint lay back down and wrapped his arms around Phil again. 

"I've told you before that it's OK if you want me to do what you say in bed sometimes."

"I know."

"But?"

"I... I'm working on it. On letting it be OK for me to want that. To ask you for it."

"What about if I offered, sometime? Would that help?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Probably."

"OK, then I will."

"Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too. Now do you want to see what's on TV, or order room service?"

"Why do we have to just choose one?" Phil asked, smiling and reaching for both the remote and the room service menu...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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